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  “Are there internal injuries?”

  “Possibly.” He pulled back Josephine’s sheet and pressed her abdominal area gently. Josephine moaned. “Rate your pain 1-10. 10 being unbearable.”

  “Nine,” she whispered back. Her face was ashen and her hair was soaked.

  The man looked back at Yeshua. “We need to do a scan to be sure. To see if there are any internal injuries.”

  The man leaned over Josephine to listen to her breathing and feel her abdomen. “Sounds like she might have a collapsed lung and some soft tissue contusion around her spleen. But we won’t know anything for sure until we get the results from the scan.”

  “But everything’s treatable? Worst case, everything’s treatable?” Yeshua paced to the bright window and peaked out through the slats of the blinds.

  “Yes,” the man nodded. “We might need to insert a tube to drain the collapsed lung. She’s young; it’ll be a piece of cake. Then we’ll watch the spleen and staunch whatever might be causing the internal bleeding in her abdomen.”

  “What are the other options?”

  “No other options. This is the best off-grid facility with legitimate medical staff. A lot of the other clinics are back alley. You don’t want to take her to those. Trust me. We always get them after they’ve been hacked up there.”

  “Right,” said Yeshua quietly.

  “You get what you pay for.”

  Yeshua walked back to the bedside and sat down. He dropped his head in his hands and covered his face. The man in white put his hand on his back. Yeshua rubbed his eyes, already bloodshot from the strong stench of rubbing alcohol in the room.

  “Josephine,” started Yeshua. “Do you know where you are?”

  She shook her head and fingered the intravenous line taped to her right hand. She tried to sit up.

  “Add some Dilaudid to the bag,” instructed the man in white. Calmed after the administration of the tranquilizer, Josephine looked at Yeshua. She felt heat flood her neck and back. Bright lights flickered above her. Yeshua sat next to her, waiting.

  “The OR is open in one hour, but we’ll get a scan now,” a head popped in to announce.

  “Let’s go,” said the man in white. “Right?” He looked at Yeshua. We’re going?” Yeshua held up his hand and bent into Josephine’s neck.

  “Do you know where you are?” Yeshua asked her.

  “She’s out of it. You have to make any decisions as her contact person. Are we good to go?”

  “Wait a minute!” he yelled.

  “She won’t respond, she’s sedated. She can’t make decisions right now. You have to.”

  “Josephine,” Yeshua whispered in quiet bursts, “you are at a hospital.” Her eyes widened, not understanding. “Don’t ask questions, just listen. I brought you here. Your leg is infected and you might have some internal injuries.” Josephine’s eyes widened as they put a mask over her mouth and nose.

  “You’re upsetting her,” said the man in white. “Stop talking to her.”

  “No, you’re upsetting here. She doesn’t know what’s going on.”

  “Hurry up. We have a tight schedule.”

  “I’ll get you back home as soon as you are better.” Yeshua ignored the other man.

  Josephine tried to speak but her mouth wouldn’t move. “You’re safe, Josephine. I won’t let anything happen to hurt you. I promise.” He reached over the bed to hold both her hands; she squeezed.

  “All right. Take her. Bring her back in one piece.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Make it the reality,” Yeshua said, letting go of her.

  An unnaturally tall woman, wrapped in a black and white hounds tooth suit, strode towards Yeshua as Josephine was wheeled to the critical care unit. The woman’s hair was pinned tightly to the back of her head in an overly tight French twist, pulling her facial features back. “We just need you to sign these consent forms for Ms. Rolls’ treatment. Please make sure all of the information is correct.” Her pen tapped impatiently on the olive green screen scratched with the faint lines and curves of previous signatures.

  Yeshua glanced at the tiny printed document on the screen, scrolled down quickly, and signed and dated where indicated. The woman’s bright red lips smiled over her ultra white bleached teeth. “Thank you,” her high soprano voiced echoed. “We are happy you chose us for your friend’s care. She will receive optimum care.”

  “She better,” he replied. The woman turned on her faux crocodile heels and clicked away. Yeshua walked over to an empty window seat and looked at the maze-like courtyard garden below. The benches were empty, but several hospital orderlies commandeered patients in wheelchairs, their intravenous bags swaying behind them.

  “You brought her here?” Yeshua spun around to a voice echoing in the hall. “To an underground clinic? What were you thinking?” yelled Minnow as she ran up to him. Yeshua took one look at Minnow. She appeared unstrung, unhinged, and unwashed. Her arms had fresh red scratches.

  “I had to. She was hurt at Anson’s, trying to get the hard drive.” He took her wrists and turned her arms over. “What happened to you?”

  “Nothing.” She brushed him off quickly and pulled her sleeves down.

  Minnow collapsed in a heap of frustration on a bench, Yeshua sat in the chair next to her. “No matter how you did it. No matter why you did it. It was a mistake.” She crossed her arms across her straw Kenya bag and settled down with her head back against the wall.

  “I really don’t care,” he stated flatly.

  “What if they track her?” she asked.

  “They won’t. They can’t track her. She’s completely off the feed.” He began to pace back and forth. “Stop talking about it. Stop thinking about it. And make sure all communication regarding her stays off the grid.”

  “It’s not so easy,” she said. Minnow opened her bag and pulled out a drink. “How are you going to get her back?”

  “The same way I got her here, with me. Seriously Minnow, stop it.”

  “You know, operating on her here, may not affect her when she returns. She may go back to find herself just as injured as when she left.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s possible. Something that happens to a person travelling into the future might not carry backwards in a geo-chronological situation.”

  “Well, I took that chance, Minnow. A Victorian doctor doesn’t have our medical tools. Her leg was going septic and spreading into her bloodstream. She was getting sicker and sicker. Her best chance is here.”

  “What you did was reckless, Yeshua.”

  “You would have done the same thing.”

  “No. I wouldn’t. I would never let my feelings interfere with my judgment.”

  “Whatever, Minnow. You come from a cold gene pool.” Yeshua walked away.

  “Whatever. Have you seen Nico?”

  “No. He didn’t return with me to Charley’s. He’s not with you?”

  “No. He’s nowhere on the feed yet, either. It’s looking suspicious. I’m sure Omni has tried to reset him. They probably have him flagged.”

  “Maybe he’s at the tattoo shop,” said a worried Yeshua. “Try Stuart Gilkison’s. He’s right on the border of the deregulated zone.”

  “You aren’t coming?”

  “No. I’m staying here. Maybe I’ll go later. I’m not leaving Jo alone.”

  “It’s ‘Jo’ now?”

  “Get out of here. Find Nico.”

  Minnow jumped up and threw her bag over her shoulder. She walked down the bright white corridor, leaving Yeshua sitting in a hallway of glass-fronted cases. Minnow’s paisley scarf fluttered behind her angry steps. Yeshua sank back into the creased softness of the bench with square chromed legs. A man rushed passed him on a stretcher with spinning rhythmic wheels. Two orderlies ran alongside the stretcher in white clothes streaked with blood; the taller orderly had a bloody handprint on his chest. A bunched up floral comforter covered the man on the stretcher, ab
sorbing the blood around his face. The side of his face had been slashed and some sort of shiny blade was still embedded in the side of his neck, reflecting in the light.

  Yeshua averted his eyes and looked down the vaulted hallway.

  “Are you unhappy, young man? Worried about a loved one?” asked a familiar Asian man chewing a toothpick. “You young people think you are invincible, yes? Your friend, is she not a smart cookie?” He walked in a circle around Yeshua. “But will she do everything you say? She might break the rules.”

  Yeshua looked sharply at the intrusive stranger. “You looking for the psych ward?” He squinted at his features and realized this was the same Asian man who had threatened Charley at his pawnshop, the man searching for something on behalf of his employer. The Tabulator. Tran smiled, showing a golden-capped front tooth.

  “Can I help you?” asked Yeshua, annoyed and slightly unnerved.

  Tran walked to the bench where Yeshua sat. Tran tucked a piece of paper in his front jacket pocket. “Fortune cookie for you.”

  “Do I know you?” asked Yeshua, playing it cool. Tran’s eyes were dark and strangely opaque with no reflection.

  “I am just here on a job. I retrieve things. People forget things in a place like this, you know? In times of stress, you don’t what you should.”

  “I’m going to the cafeteria, nice talking to you,” mumbled Yeshua, eager to get away from Tran.

  “Those ancient robots were primal, weren’t they?” Tran raised his voice to follow Yeshua. “Too rough for my taste. And your girlfriend’s too.” Yeshua kept his back to him, starting to walk down the bright corridor. “Took awhile to perfect their aim, you know?” Tran goaded him. “Did you notice their poor aim? I’m surprised they got anywhere near your friend, personally.”

  Yeshua spun around. “Are you trying to tell me something? Because I prefer a little less conversation.”

  “I want the Tabulator, my friend. Same thing as you. Maybe you have it right here. In that case, you can return it to me. Then walk away unscathed. Or perhaps your friend is keeping it under her ridiculous petticoats.”

  Yeshua grabbed Tran by the front of his shirt and rammed him against the wall. “I don’t know what you are talking about. But I will tell you this, you stay away, and I mean far, far away, from any of my friends. You got that?”

  “For now, perhaps I will. But I make no guarantees. If you are in my way, you will be gone. Like you never existed, understand? And your girlfriend? I will always be able to find her.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  Tran winked with a slippery smile and patted Yeshua’s pocket. “Don’t forget your fortune. It would be unlucky for you not to read it.”

  As Tran walked away, his short figure disappeared into the disembodied glow of the hall. Yeshua hands ran over his chest pocket of his denim jacket, feeling for the fortune cookie. He looked down at the elegant scrawl of a man whose first language wasn’t English.

  A coiled and faded blue snake decorated the right lower corner of the note. “Time is a carousel and my horse will always be behind yours.”

  Deregulated Zone

  December 2134

  Josephine blinked and struggled to breathe. Her left hand was attached to an intravenous line, her right to a pulse and oxygen monitor. A long clear tube connected her to a slow-drip apparatus strung with bags of hanging liquids. Oxygen was being pumped into her nostrils via uncomfortable tubes. She looked down at her chapped hands and bitten nails as they throbbed and burned, pulsing to her own heartbeat.

  “Can you tell me your name? Your date of birth?” A stout manly woman stood over her, wearing a black nametag engraved with white writing, “Norma White - Progressive Care Nurse.” Her voice buzzed and harped with insistent questions as Josephine bobbed in and out of consciousness. Norma stood on squat stubbled legs, her blue veins looked like rivers on a map.

  Josephine closed her eyes to avoid the interrogation. Her lips felt glued over her cotton-dry mouth and dragged like sandpaper over her teeth. Her throat and chest were sore from intubation tubes. Her mouth was red and irritated from the tape that held a breathing tube in place.

  “Josephine.” Norma White impatiently snapped at her. “Your name is Josephine, correct?”

  Josephine nodded. “Date of birth,” Norma commanded.

  “July fourth.”

  “Ah, the old Independence Day? Year?”

  “1847”

  “Right, sweet pea,” Norma said. “Looks like we should cut back your meds.”

  A dressing gown hung on a hook on the back of the door. The sun overly lighted the room; the bright fluorescent lights of earlier had been turned off. The blinds were pulled up from the tall windows, and sunlight burst into the room in strange angles from the adjacent buildings.

  “Would you mind letting the shades down, just a bit?” asked Josephine slowly. “My eyes ache.”

  “Your eyes will adjust. We have to get you up and moving soon. Back to normal, right? After I check your vitals we’ll get you right off that bed.”

  Norma wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Josephine’s arm and took her temperature. “Looks good. 98 degrees, normal, no fever. BP is 120 over 70, normal too. A walk down the hall will be good for you. I’ll call for a walker for you.” Norma placed the stethoscope on Josephine’s chest and listened. “We need to work those lungs.”

  Josephine cleared her throat and tried to speak, but only scratchy sounds came out.

  “Blow into this.” Norma directed. She handed her a clear tube with measured markings on the side. “This will stretch your lungs and keep them from filling up with fluid. Try to reach the 200 mark.” She poured some water from a pink jug and placed it on a metal tray by the bed. “Think of this as exercise. You can have this drink afterwards.”

  Josephine took a deep breath to blow into the apparatus, but only managed a sputtered and phlegmatic cough.

  “Not acceptable. Try again.”

  Josephine stretched out her tight chest and coughed as the door opened slowly. Yeshua came in with Minnow huddled behind him.

  “You can come in,” said Nurse Norma. “But you’ll have to leave if you obstruct her therapy.” She hung over Josephine, demonstrating. “Now, breathe in.” Unsatisfied by Josephine’s effort, she shouted, “More! Stretch your lungs.” Josephine wheezed in and out. “Good! Exhale and push.”

  Norma gently lifted Josephine’s hair by her right ear and looked at her scalp through a lit magnifier. “Are you having any headaches? Dizziness?”

  “I feel queasy, mostly. Why? Is something wrong with my ear?”

  “No, nothing is wrong. Everything looks good. And the queasiness will pass soon enough. Would you like some water?”

  “Yes, please,” answered Josephine, dizzy from effort.

  With only one large chair in the room for visitors, Minnow sat on the wide seat and Yeshua balanced on its arm. The chair was oversized to the extent that, whoever sat on it looked miniaturized. Yeshua’s legs reached the floor but Minnow sat on the edge, fidgeting. Concrete beams overhead had been painted a bright and sanitized white.

  “She needs rest.” said the nurse.

  “How are you feeling, Josephine?” Yeshua said, ignoring Norma.

  Norma smoothed tight scrubs to smooth the fabric bunched around her waist. “She’s healing nicely,” she said officiously. “Her lung has no more fluid, and there are no signs of further infection in her leg. Her treatment, so far, is a success.”

  “Good. Can we take her home soon?” Yeshua didn’t take his eyes from Josephine.

  “I’ll check with her doctor. Soon, I am sure, but certainly not today.”

  “Where am I?” whispered Josephine.

  “In a hospital. Your mind is fuzzy from anesthesia and painkillers, you’ll feel better soon,” said Yeshua.

  “You’re in a black clinic,” said Minnow matter of factly. “Welcome to our little world.”

  Norma eyed Minnow. One hand clutched the stethoscope as she
shut the door behind her, her smudged glasses hung from a chain around her neck. Yeshua pulled the privacy curtains in the room around Josephine’s bed and adjusted her blinds.

  “Pretty bright in here. Do you want me to close some of these?”

  “Yes please. The brightness is giving me a headache.”

  Minnow pulled back Josephine’s sheet and looked at the dressing on her leg. The bandage was dampened with clear and watery plasma but no sign of infection. Minnow next felt her neck, and looked in her eyes. She walked over and locked the door.

  “She looks good,” she said as she turned to Yeshua. “We are getting you out of here, before you are discovered,” said Minnow urgently. “Here, I brought some clothes.” She dug out a small shopping bag and dropped it on the floor.

  Josephine’s legs burned as she pushed herself from the bed, shaking with nerves. “How did I get here? Where are Caroline and Bodhi?”

  “Take it easy,” said Yeshua, rushing over to pick her up, guiding her by her elbows. “She needs to get her strength back. Minnow. I think we’re rushing it. Wait another day or two. Leave her to me. ”

  “No. It’s too risky. What if she starts asking questions about where she is? Or about where she’s really from? Hurry up, in case the nurse comes back.”

  Minnow helped Josephine to her feet and gently pulled out the intravenous line. Minnow hurriedly tossed the needle into a red hazardous materials box on the wall and Yeshua stuffed assorted bandages and ointments from the sink into his backpack.

  “Minnow, do you have antibiotics on supply?”

  “Yes, we’re fine with that. Just grab all the bandages you can. Besides, what I don’t have, you can bet Charley does.”

  Josephine dizzily paced the room and gathered her clothes as her mind raced.

  “I don’t think we are doing the right thing, Min,” said Yeshua.

  “Let’s go,” Minnow said back to him, insistently.